Maybe We Should Just Sleep On It
by gf7
Summary: Trip acted without thinking and challenged T'Pol again. So they deal.


TITLE: Maybe We Should Just Sleep On It  
  
AUTHOR: Shawn Carter  
  
EMAIL: godfathershawn@earthlink.net mailto:godfathershawn@earthlink.net or shawngf007@aol.com mailto:shawngf007@aol.com  
  
SUMMARY: Trip acted without thinking and challenged T'Pol again. So they deal. This takes place after CIVILIZATION. T/T.  
  
RATING: PG  
  
NOTES: This is my first ENTERPRISE piece. I've got another one the backburner but it's taking some time.  
  
MUSICAL NOTES: The title is from a Tim McGraw song of the same name. The lyrics are from the Eagles song Hotel California.  
  
****  
  
"And I was thinking to myself  
  
This could be heaven or this could be hell"  
  
****  
  
I'm an ass. They say that's the first step. You know, admission. Well here I am, Charlie Tucker, standing in front of my mirror. I'm an ass.  
  
You would think by now that I'd know better. You'd think by now that I'd get it. It's not like this is the first time that I've stopped using my head and let my emotions and my biases jump before common sense.  
  
She's proven herself to us. Time and time again. She handed over sensitive data to the Andorians that could endanger many people on her home-world; hell she gave up marriage to stay with us.  
  
I always assume the worst.  
  
Been like that my whole life. I make a friend and I don't do so well when I think they're in danger. I over-react and assume that everyone else is going to hurt them. I know she's not.  
  
For now at least.  
  
That's not entirely fair and I know this.  
  
It's been hard to get past all of the ghosts in my head. Harder than I would have ever thought. Even now..I'm just not interested in going there. It's a dark place and I spend too much time in a black fog.  
  
No one would believe that. Trip is the easy-going one. Nothing phases him. It's all good.  
  
Well you know what they say about comedians and why they laugh?  
  
I laugh even now. Best not to go there.  
  
I'm okay. Really I am.  
  
Been dealing with my shadows a long time. I can keep dealing.  
  
Doesn't excuse my behavior. Even I know that.  
  
T'Pol is a strange one. I'm still trying to understand her. Even after 13 weeks around her. She doesn't make much sense to me.  
  
She's not like other Vulcans. She actually seems to be..well conflicted. There are times when I would swear that I see emotion. Yesterday when I damn near mutinied, she was genuinely pissed off at me.  
  
And maybe a little hurt.  
  
I don't like that.  
  
It's like that old Steve Miller Band song. Sure don't want to hurt no one. Hell, I think that's my theme song.  
  
It's weird how fragile relationships are. You get to a point where you think you understand each other and things are nice and calm. And then just like that; everything is broken again.  
  
I hate that. No, I really hate that.  
  
That's why I'm protective over Jonathon. He's been pretty much my best friend for most of my life and no matter what, he's always stood behind me. Even when I screwed things up like I'm apt to do. Even when I got in way over my head.  
  
He backs me up. I back him up.  
  
That's friendship.  
  
I so get that.  
  
So is she my friend? I mean, I know I wouldn't let anyone hurt her.  
  
I wonder about that. I wonder when that came about. Ask me 13 weeks ago what I would have said and I think I would have grudgingly allowed that I would save her because she's a part of the crew.  
  
And now?  
  
That's an interesting question.  
  
***  
  
"Anything else?" Jonathon Archer queried, looking up at his Vulcan Science Officer. She was standing above him, watching him with that damned passive expression on her face while he read through her report.  
  
"Everything is in my report, Captain." T'Pol replied, so very calmly.  
  
Archer tapped the PADD with his thumbs and then looked up at her. "I heard..scuttlebutt.."  
  
"I'm not familiar with that term," T'Pol interrupted.  
  
"Sorry..rumors," Archer amended. "I heard rumors that there was a problem between you and Trip."  
  
T'Pol just looked at him for a very long and uncomfortable minute. Archer shifted in his chair and then lifted his eyebrow as if to attempt to prompt an answer from her.  
  
"Rumors are just rumors, Captain."  
  
"Just rumors?"  
  
"I believe that is what I said," she answered. From anyone else, it would have sounded like a challenge but her even non-assuming tone meant that it was just another comment from her. Just another well played retort.  
  
"Okay," Archer nodded. He tapped the PADD almost idly against his wrist and then looked up at her. "Dismissed."  
  
She turned to leave and had even placed her hand on the panel to open the door when he called her back. "Captain?"  
  
"Just one more thing.."  
  
"Yes?"  
  
He paused a moment and then finally said, "Good job. You did a real good job."  
  
****  
  
I'm still not understanding humans.  
  
I've been around them for almost a year and a half but as time progresses, they make less sense rather than more.  
  
They don't like me here. They don't trust me. I understand that because my people feel the same way about them. They are like children playing in the sand. They don't care what they dig up. Just that it's interesting.  
  
They are a fascinating people.  
  
This is a sin to even my own mind. I acknowledge this and yet I fight it.  
  
We are not without emotions. We are not without conflict. We simply don't speak of it.  
  
We meditate and pray for peace and calm. How can I possibly hope to achieve these things among this crew?  
  
Take Commander Tucker.  
  
No, perhaps it is best not to go there.  
  
If emotion is suppressed, you build a hole inside of you for which to dump everything into. Your feelings. Your pain. Everything.  
  
Commander Tucker is being dumped there on a daily basis.  
  
He challenges me constantly but even when I prove myself, he is still dubious.  
  
Do I trust him?  
  
That's a question that demands more thought.  
  
But to spend too much time thinking of him would be illogical.  
  
I know better.  
  
This ship has changed me. These people have altered me.  
  
I don't how yet but I know I feel different.  
  
Six days ago, I was to be married.  
  
If would have been a good marriage and he a good husband. He would have taken care of me and allowed for a life lived fully through tradition and fellowship.  
  
My wants and desires are irrelevant. But here I am.  
  
Commander Tucker helped me to stay so why does it always seem like he wishes I would go?  
  
Too much consideration is illogical.  
  
And yet it consumes me.  
  
Six days ago, I was to be married. 13 weeks ago, I would not have lost a moment of sleep on the matter.  
  
These humans have changed me. Is it for the better?  
  
Perhaps time will tell. And I should not think too much on it. Dwelling on anything only creates attachments to certain thoughts and ideas. Which allows for emotion.  
  
Which damns me.  
  
Which damns us all.  
  
I blink. I've never said that before. Or thought it.  
  
Perhaps I'm already damned.  
  
***  
  
The chirp at her door woke her from her sleep. Sitting up, she tried to gather her wits about her. A look at the digital clock revealed it to be just after two in the morning. Earth time of course.  
  
She stood and smoothed her clothing. She was dressed in loose-fitting clothes. Almost like sweats. Human clothing. Of course.  
  
She crossed over to her door and hit the key to open it. Her eyes widened just a bit when she saw who it was. Mentally she scolded herself for her lapse in facial control.  
  
"A hundred flogs with a leather strap," Trip murmured, his voice sliding along in an almost poetic stream. He was leaning against the wall, studying her.  
  
"Excuse me?" Passive. Calm. Controlled.  
  
Perfect.  
  
"Beating yourself up 'cuz you're shocked to see me?" he offered, openly grinning at him.  
  
She was shocked but she sure as hell wasn't going to let him know that. It was already bad enough that as usual; he'd wormed his way under her skin. "Is there a problem, Commander?"  
  
He offered her a small smile, "I wanted to talk to you."  
  
"It couldn't have waited until morning?" she asked, a bit of crankiness inching it's way into her voice.  
  
"Well yeah but..I wanted to talk to you now."  
  
She stepped aside and allowed him into her quarters. Then turning to face him she said, "Speak."  
  
"I'm not a dog," he reminder her. She just stared at him. "Okay, tough crowd."  
  
"Commander?"  
  
"Right. Look..you know..sometimes.you do things..you might not..you know..."  
  
"Commander, have you been looking through my mail again?" T'Pol asked, breaking in.  
  
He stopped and looked at her, eyes narrowed. "No, should I have?" He shook his head. "No, no. Look..I came here..I wanted to.." He sighed. "I wanted to apologize."  
  
"Apology accepted," she replied crisply. "Goodnight."  
  
He blinked. "Do you even know what I'm apologizing for?"  
  
"Your insubordination, I presume."  
  
"Right. Yeah. That. Kinda. Not exactly."  
  
"Then what exactly?" she asked, trying to impress upon him how not interested she was.  
  
And that was true. Kinda. Sorta. Not really.  
  
Close enough.  
  
He swallowed,"I wanted to apologize..for doubting you. I keep doing that."  
  
"You do," she confirmed, tone still firm.  
  
"Right, I do and I shouldn't..because you're one of us..I mean one of the crew . Look this isn't working like how I thought. So, I'll just say I'm sorry and then say goodnight, okay?"  
  
T'Pol nodded, a slight movement.  
  
Trip sighed, "Good night, T'Pol."  
  
"Good night, Commander."  
  
She watched him as he moved through the doors and swaggered down the hall wearing a look of confusion. Watched him all the way until the doors snapped shut behind him. And then she whispered. "And thank you."  
  
-FIN 


End file.
